


Stand (so close to me)

by i_claudia



Series: summer pornathon 2013 [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/F, Summer Pornathon 2013, Teacher-Student Relationship, Team Gluttony, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-23
Updated: 2013-06-23
Packaged: 2017-12-24 10:54:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/939136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_claudia/pseuds/i_claudia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gwen knows she should have seen this coming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stand (so close to me)

**Author's Note:**

> Summer Pornathon 2013. Challenge One: Kink Grab Bag. 
> 
> Pure self-indulgent, driven-by-deadline-desperation ficlet. It's never specified if the student here is underage, but I wrote her in my head as being of legal age.

Gwen knows she should have seen this coming. She _has_ seen it coming, has seen it all year, and maybe she should care more about the consequences but...

But Morgana is all soft curves and sharp angles in her arms. But Gwen, when it comes down to it, has never been able to deny herself for long. But if there were any lines left to cross, in truth she razed them to the ground months ago. 

She's not reckless about it—the doors to her classroom are shut, the windows darkened with the thoughts she holds firm in the back corner of her mind—but she's drowning nonetheless, swept away in the fury of Morgana's kisses. She kisses back, buries her hands in the thickness of Morgana's hair and pulls her close while Morgana caresses her, tentacles stroking down her shoulders and her spine, each touch a promise.

“We shouldn't—” she whispers, but Morgana only tightens her hold. 

“This is all I've wanted all year,” Morgana whispers, lips brushing the shell of Gwen's ear. “All I've wanted _every_ year, sitting in your classroom, listening to you go on about ethics and telekinesis, wondering with every lecture what else you might do with your mouth—”

“Jesus,” Gwen says, faintly. Morgana smiles slow. She has one hand cupped over the side of Gwen's neck, the other laid over Gwen's breastbone. Two tentacles twist delicately around Gwen's wrists, another coming up to brush stray hair back from her face; Gwen can't help but reach out for them, running her fingers up to where they meet and fuse just under Morgana's arms. They're softer than skin, pale enough that Gwen can trace the veins in them threading through the muscles. Morgana wraps one around her waist, pulling at her wrists to draw her close. 

“Please,” Morgana murmurs, and Gwen swallows, shuts her eyes. She nods. 

“I've wanted to see you,” Morgana says, her words muffled now against the skin of Gwen's neck. She runs her teeth along Gwen's collarbone, and Gwen tips her head back, shrugging her shoulders out of her cardigan as Morgana draws it off. “Wanted so badly to lay you out on your desk, Professor—” Gwen can't help the guttural noise she makes at that. God, she knows she should stop this, knows it isn't right for her pulse to thrum when Morgana calls her that, but Morgana has a hand under her shirt now, fingers pressing up beneath her bra.

She's moving back now, Morgana steering until Gwen stumbles, falling back against the wall. “Want to make you scream,” Morgana whispers, and Gwen kisses her again. Gwen's shirt is open, and Morgana is everywhere, thumbs working carefully over Gwen's nipples while she strokes her tentacles up under Gwen's skirt, teasing along her inner thighs. 

Gwen curses when Morgana brushes against her panties, and Morgana hisses through her teeth. 

“Can I? Please, Professor—”

There's an uncertainty in her voice which undoes Gwen completely. She gives in.

Morgana isn't shy, curling the tapered end of a tentacle around the scalloped edge of Gwen's underwear. Another teases at her navel, and Gwen shudders at the touch, biting her lip as Morgana's tiny strokes grow closer to the wet between Gwen's legs, tickling her pubic hair before she runs one smooth tip over Gwen's clitoris.

Gwen gasps, he knees buckling before she digs her fingers hard into Morgana's shoulders, fighting to stay upright. “Fuck.”

Morgana doesn't stop moving, all four tentacles moving over Gwen's body, two wrapped warm and tight around her arms. The tentacle between her legs pushes forward infinitesimally, and Gwen gasps again. “Just ask,” Morgana whispers. “Please, all you have to—”

Gwen clenches her fingers more tightly, the cloth of Morgana's blazer wrinkling in her grip. She brings a knee up, hooking her leg over Morgana's hip, heedless of the way her skirt rides up. “Going to make me beg? Oh, fuck.”

The tentacle slips inside her easily, but Morgana doesn't push her advantage; she lingers, teasing at the entrance, pushing one hand down to rub a finger against the slippery skin. 

“Fuck, Morgana, please—”

“Yes,” Morgana hisses, and pushes in with one smooth motion, twisting the tentacle until Gwen curses again, choked. “Dreamed about this—”

“More,” Gwen manages. “I need—”

The tentacle twists again, all muscle and hot skin, and all of Gwen's insides twist with it. She's lost.


End file.
